


cigarette trick.

by yojin (MnM_PD)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Cigarettes, College AU, M/M, Self-Indulgent, Shotgunning, hirufuta, i have a thing for the phrase "kiss me stupid" at the moment, kids don't be like futakuchi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:02:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24315493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MnM_PD/pseuds/yojin
Summary: futakuchi asks hirugami to try smoking and hirugami says no.
Relationships: Futakuchi Kenji/Hirugami Sachirou
Comments: 17
Kudos: 30





	cigarette trick.

**Author's Note:**

> :D i been in quarantine w my parents so i haven’t filthied my lungs in a month, i guess u can say this is very self indulgent. but also, i came up w this like 8 seconds after i woke up on the couch, still disoriented, so if it’s messy, u kno why.

“Hirugami.” A voice laced full of mischief and plans to do no good called him. Honestly, he wanted to ignore it but he turned his head to face the one in need of his attention anyway.

“Have you tried smoking?” Futakuchi asked, immediately after Hirugami’s eyes met his, witnessing as his lips spread into a curious smirk.

“No.” Hirugami said flatly, and Futakuchi’s brow quirks upwards, “Will never do.”

Futakuchi rolled his eyes and laid back into the couch deeper, groaning, “Come _on_ , let’s just try it once.”

Hirugami didn’t take the bait and simply sighed. He doesn’t verbally judge people who choose to slowly die by inhaling toxic chemicals into their bronchioles but he’d rather not be a part of that community. He doesn’t take involuntary breathing for granted and cherishes it dearly.

He heard a small _hmph_ beside him before the dip in the couch rose as Futakuchi stood up and made his way towards Terushima, a long time smoker, who was seated on the couch adjacent to theirs. A quick few strides and Futakuchi was already sat beside the blonde, no doubt asking to try a cigarette. Knowing how blatant Terushima is with his bad habits, he’d be ecstatic to introduce anybody into ‘ _new and thrilling_ ’ things.

Hirugami was not drunk enough to be irresponsible like this, so he downed the drink in his cup and let Futakuchi make his own bad decisions. He watched with a disgusted frown as the blonde passed his already lit cigarette to Futakuchi. Terushima was even nice enough to state the instructions on how to do it step by step — _place it between your lips, inhale, remove the cigarette, breathe once more and keep it in for a few seconds, then blow it out_.

As the brunette brought the tobacco stick to his lips, Hirugami hoped Futakuchi would choke and cough his lungs out like most first timers do when he saw them attempt the second inhale, but alas, the asshole has a lot of self control and tolerance to weird sensations as he simply smiled his obnoxious shit eating grin while blowing the smoke out.

Terushima asked him what it felt like with a dangerous gleam in his eyes, and Futakuchi told him that smoking is overrated. Terushima bursted into a loud chortle and Hirugami unconsciously nodded, relieved that the other wouldn’t fall into the lung deteriorating habit, but then Futakuchi took yet another hit of what he deemed overrated with a pleased look in his face, which made Hirugami pause and shake his head.

He reached for the bottle of vodka on the center table and drank from it directly, which urged a mirthful snort from someone beside him, asking him what’s with the rush. He simply shrugged and tilted his head to take another gulp, because unlike the cheap ones, this bottle and brand of vodka doesn’t taste like straight up gasoline, and he loves vodka.

While he was busy with his liquor, he didn’t notice the dip of the couch beside him again until he sniffed an awful smell he can only relate to with cigarettes. He snapped his head towards his right and saw brown irises focused on him, grinning widely before he sends Hirugami a wink.

“So, did you enjoy smoking?” Hirugami asked monotonously, making his disdain obvious with a bored expression while he disapprovingly eyed the cigarette stick in Futakuchi’s right hand.

“I don’t know, but I’m glad I tried.” Futakuchi answered, then he offered the stick to Hirugami, which he squinted at begrudgingly, making the other snicker and lean close to him, patting his shoulder.

“Hey, no one’s gonna die if you try it _once_ , Hiru.” Futakuchi said, trying to convince him with a sweeter tone and a shallow massage on his nape.

“No.” He said again, stronger and more absolute this time. Futakuchi seemed to rest his case as he sunk back down into his seat again, raising his shoulders. Hirugami looked away, assuming that Futakuchi had admitted defeat, but then he spoke again.

“Terushima told me this thing called shotgun.” Futakuchi said, then all of a sudden he felt a hand gently hold the left side of his waist, the fingers thrumming his skin as Futakuchi continued, his voice swaying like a needy child asking for sweets, “I wanna do it with you.”

Hirugami focused on his breathing, because Futakuchi might feel it faltering as he continued to caress the side of his stomach in resonating and constant beats while he drummed his fingertips on the lower part of his torso.

Hirugami’s aware of what a shotgun is, he’s seen it done and performed in front of him a hundred times. He even learned the unspoken but well known fact that if someone asked you if they can pass you the smoke, they’re only testing the waters if they can make out with you. First they’d blow the smoke towards you with at least a fist away from your lips, and it would inch closer and closer until your lips are basically connected to each other while you inhale the smoke they exhale. It’s a no brainer on what happens next.

“Nah. I’m good.” Hirugami said and stood up to walk away towards the kitchen. As tempting as the offer is, he wouldn’t let Futakuchi win him over and get him into consuming chemicals just because the desire to eat each other’s face was mutual. They’ve been tiptoeing around it for a while, or maybe they’ve been playing a long standing game of push and pull, or maybe they’re just competitive jerks who keeps taunting the other to see who would give in first.

Both of them aren’t lacking with people to make out and fool around with, they aren’t ashamed of it too, but something between them is just full of tension and rivalry that they haven’t really dived into each other’s warmth and simply let their bodies do the talking. Needless to say, Hirugami would want that, a lot if he’s being truthful, but if Futakuchi’s idea is to involve cigarettes into the play, he’d rather take a different opportunity for another time.

Hirugami got to the kitchen and poured himself water, because hydrating is important, even more so if you’re drinking. After taking big gulps of refreshingly cold water, Hirugami thinks he’s back to being sober as he trotted his way back to where the chaos is.

Futakuchi wasn’t where he left him earlier, so he scanned the room and saw him eerily close to Terushima whose head was angled perfectly towards him while Futakuchi sucked on a cigarette. He placed a gentle hand on the blonde’s neck, and Hirugami instantly knew what was happening.

Without understanding what the nerve impulse sent to his brain was, he took huge steps towards the two and closed the distance in mere seconds. The next thing he knew, his fingers were underneath Futakuchi’s jaw to tilt his head upwards, both of their lips parted as Hirugami inhaled the smoke Futakuchi was exhaling. As close as their faces were, Hirugami noticed the other’s eyes subtly widen in bafflement, but his milk chocolate brown eyelashes fluttered then his gaze turned sultry in a millisecond. When Hirugami felt the corners of Futakuchi’s mouth turn upwards against his, he finally backed off and breathed out the smoke, consciously controlling his facial muscles as to not show his own confusion to the man solely focused him.

Hirugami was _not_ a jealous man. He’s good with simple quickies, hook ups, flings, non-committal relationships, you say it, and yet just now, something stirred inside him when he saw Futakuchi about to do something weirdly intimate with a different person other than him.

Just now, he fucking felt _possessive_ , and having that feeling is _barely_ okay, but _acting_ on it is a fucking _hazard_.

He still has his grip on Futakuchi’s neck and jaw while Terushima again exploded into a loud laughter, slapping his own thigh as he forced to speak while trying to hold back his joy, “Y’all need a fucking drink, _boys_?”

“No.” Hirugami answered, releasing Futakuchi and flopping down beside him, “I actually think I’ve had too much.”

So much for feeling sober after a cold glass of water.

“Oh, no _. No, no, no_.” Terushima theatrically said, picking up a shot glass and a hard liquor as he poured one for Futakuchi, still amused by what he witnessed, “I think you guys haven’t had _enough_.”

Hirugami watched as Futakuchi gladly downed the shot offered to him with a smirk, but he hasn’t said anything. With nothing to do, Hirugami entertained Terushima with the shot he was handing to him. Lastly, Terushima wiggled his brows at the two of them with a _knowing_ smile before he scooted over to a different part of the couch so they were left alone with more space for whatever Terushima thinks he knows they’ll do.

Once the blonde troublemaker’s distraction was gone, Hirugami realized that the side of his body was fully touching Futakuchi’s — their arms, their hands, their thighs, their feet — and it awkwardly felt too hot and itching. No one spoke, and Futakuchi only moved after a while to put out the cigarette on the ash tray in front of him, disconnecting himself away from Hirugami for the better so he could at least permit himself to breathe more freely.

Now that the rush was calming, Hirugami mentally slapped and nagged himself. He said he won’t inhale a single puff of cigarette smoke in his life and yet because of the sudden manifestation of the need to act upon his possessiveness in him made him break that. It’s awfully abnormal how Futakuchi makes him act sometimes, and he wonders just what it is in the boy that have charmed him this deep without him even realizing.

Like a cut in the air, Futakuchi had decided to speak.

“You’ve done that before.” Futakuchi said, not questioningly, but accusingly, and Hirugami quickly retorted, “No.”

Futakuchi craned his neck a little to peak at his face with unbelieving eyes, but since it wasn’t a lie, it seemed like his expression convinced the brunette.

“You told me no earlier.” Futakuchi said once he looked away again, “I was so ready to feel Terushima’s tongue piercing again and you—“ He clicks his tongue, “What the _fuck_ was that about?”

There was a knot inside Hirugami’s chest, whether that was because of Futakuchi looking forward to Terushima tonguing him with a sexy piercing, or him being the dimwitted loser of their unannounced battle of seducing each other and then being shamed for actually losing.

“ _God_.” Futakuchi groaned after Hirugami only answered him with silence, then he raised a palm to his forehead, “Would you _ever_ stop sending mixed signals?”

“I’m not.” Hirugami said when he found the courage to speak with a bit of a bark.

The brunette whipped his head to scaldingly glare at him, saying, “You _rejected_ me earlier.”

“I was rejecting the _cigarette_.” Hirugami said, quickly with a stoic face, then he leaned close to Futakuchi, connecting his chest to the other’s arms, still staring back at his glare, then he whispered, “Not _you_.”

Hirugami licked his lips, and Futakuchi’s eyes flicked down to look at it, distracting him from glaring and when his gaze lifts back up to Hirugami’s eyes, it was still intense, but provocative in both the exasperating and coquettish meaning of the word.

“You don’t need cigarette tricks for me to kiss you.” Hirugami muttered, his lips so close to Futakuchi’s that his words brush off on the other’s mouth.

“Uh huh.” Futakuchi mocked, placing a hand on Hirugami’s chest and pushing away as he leaned backwards, creating a vexing space between them on purpose, “And yet it is _exactly_ what brought you here with the help of Terushima. You never got jealous before.”

“Maybe I finally just got sick of all the mind games.” Hirugami explained, even if he knew he didn’t have to, “This would have all been easier if you just weren’t a fucking prick.”

“But that takes the fun out of it.” Futakuchi said and the hand that was still on his chest started to make a drumming rhythm on top with his fingertips, the way he always does, whether it may be on Hirugami’s back, arms, waist, thighs, and now, chest— _fuck_ , Futakuchi is such a tease, and Hirugami just realized he’s utterly weak against it. It would now appear that he’s been barely hanging onto sanity in the duration of their unnecessarily prolonged brawl of tempting each other, and with the way Futakuchi devilishly smiled at him, Hirugami understood that Futakuchi had known that fact and has been using it against him for so long.

“Something still stopping you from fully submitting?” Futakuchi asked, and Hirugami was brought back to where he was and noticed that there are now hands on top of his exposed collarbone, slithering upwards, tickling his neck.

He swallowed the tightness around his throat, and he saw Futakuchi’s chocolate irises merrily watch his Adam’s apple bob in nervousness.

“Maybe if you ask for it nicely.” He said, refusing to truly give in this easily after fighting back mightily for so long.

Futakuchi hummed with an adorable pout, acting as if he’s deeply considering and contemplating about what to answer. The he wrapped his palm on the side of Hirugami’s neck, fingering the bristles of the undercut at his nape, “Is that so?”

An encapsulating gaze locked Hirugami in place and he held his breath, dazedly listening to Futakuchi as he said, “Then, please...” He said, pressed their upper bodies against each other, his breath caressing the shell of Hirugami’s ear, then he muttered with the lowest tone of his voice, “ _Do fucking kiss me stupid_.”

It was a blur. Hirugami relied on his instinct when he grabbed Futakuchi’s hair and pulled to angle their mouths slot against each other, mostly biting and teething against each other than finding a synchronized rhythm. The hand on his neck hastily crawled downwards to his waist while another landed on his thigh near his hip bone and squeezed.

Their position was awkward since Futakuchi had to twist his torso to press against him, therefore, amidst the unsynchronized dominance struggle of their tongues, teeth and lips, Hirugami found the perfect timing to pull at Futakuchi’s hair to stop their kiss for a short moment, eliciting a disapproving groan, but Hirugami swallows the next few moans as he hinged a leg over the other’s to straddle his lap. Futakuchi seemed to appreciate the new arrangement as he chuckled and sent the tremble in his throat straight to Hirugami’s while he made a particularly long suck on his bottom lip. Futakuchi’s arms wrapped around his waist and he leaned all his body weight onto the other, leading the two of them to recline against the back of the couch.

For a moment, Hirugami felt in control, like he was the one orchestrating their movements, but then Futakuchi had to grasp a fist of his hair and lifted his head upwards, making him curse from the unexpected sensation. Futakuchi cheekily pecked the muscle across his outstretched neck, mumbling on his skin, “Maybe I should’ve asked for this way earlier.”

“You know what?” Hirugami almost growled, then he hissed, “Shut the fuck up.”

He dived back into a hungrier kiss, his nails digging into Futakuchi’s clothed shoulders as he was guided into different angles, Futakuchi taking the lead by tugging on his scalp.

Hirugami sucked on his tongue and released it with a pop, leaving a peck on top of his lips before running an open mouthed kiss on the underside of his jaw, running his fingertips on the other’s neck.

Futakuchi made a pleased hum, low and guttural, which Hirugami felt vibrate on his fingers and lips. He doesn’t stop kissing even as Futakuchi spoke, “You know what’s next, right?”

There was a tug on his shirt, and Hirugami stopped his ministrations to lift his head back up, looming over Futakuchi. He silently looked down on him, thumbing the corner of his lip.

As expected, Futakuchi was both endearingly witty and irritating, proven by the sly smile that slowly appeared on his face as he asked, “Or should I ask nicely for it?”

Hirugami leaned close to him again, his eyes trained on Futakuchi’s slicked and subtly swollen lips, “Yeah.” He swiped his thumb across which Futakuchi caught and sucked upon for a quick second as he continued, “Ask nicely.”

He felt Futakuchi’s grasp on his thighs loosen, then his posture fell at ease, and his muscles relax. His features was so cozy and Hirugami knew it was only the calm before the storm, though he knew this was a necessary breather freely given to him by Futakuchi.

Futakuchi thrummed his fingers on top of Hirugami’s thighs again, staring at him like he’s full of wonder, slightly making him feel giddy. Then he muttered, “You like it when I beg for it, huh?”

And Hirugami only wrapped his arms around Futakuchi’s neck, because he knows, Futakuchi knows, they _both_ know, that Hirugami would be willing to do anything Futakuchi asks for, and even those that he doesn’t.

Futakuchi might be following Hirugami’s rules right now, but that doesn’t mean he won.

He lost. Totally. Ultimately.

He’s completely wrapped around Futakuchi’s despicable finger, but Hirugami can’t find it in himself to flee even with the flashing red lights and blatant warning signs.

**Author's Note:**

> is this ... the first hirufuta fic ...... bc uh,,, im a hirufuta enthusiast but this is a Mess and shouldnt be the (current) one & only hirufuta fic representative ....... bc oh dear, the insecurities.
> 
> hi. this is a distress call: **pls make better hirufuta fics and fEED //ME//.**
> 
> anyway hope yall liked two tall competitive assholes kissing each other stupid for minutes bc: kissing feels nice. :’))))) and lastly, don't smoke. or try to stop at least. mwa.


End file.
